


Just Making Sure

by dreamsofspike



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-28
Updated: 2010-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From this prompt: "GMA-centric fic. Kris gets possessive and rawr when Adam spends time checking out David Cook's guitarist. Kris decides he's the only one Adam should have eyes for." Basically PWP or PW/Minimal Plot :P lol</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Making Sure

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mild dom/sub, mild violence, mild bondage

It was painfully distracting.

Kris was trying to focus on the song they were singing, trying to give the best performance he was capable of giving at seven-something in the morning; but Adam seemed focused on something else entirely – and that fact was wreaking havoc on _Kris’s_ focus.

Adam kept stealing looks at the admittedly attractive guitarist to his right, mostly little glances when the guy wasn’t looking. Then, at one point, Kris tried to make eye contact with Adam, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at the guy’s ass, an appreciative smirk on his lips, as he waited for his next time to come in! Yeah, he could easily pretend that he was watching the guy’s hands as he played his guitar, and most of the crowd probably thought that was all Adam was looking at.

Kris knew better.

And it royally pissed him off.

When the show was over, Adam tried to get his attention, but Kris turned away from him at every opportunity, smiling and friendly with the staff who ran the show and any fans they happened to get the chance to talk to – but giving Adam a complete cold shoulder.

Finally, with a frustrated huff, Adam turned his attention elsewhere – and Kris realized too late the flaw in his plan.

When he saw Adam leaning on the edge of a large speaker and talking – no, not just talking, definitely _flirting_ – with the sexy guitarist… Kris could take no more. He waited until he could tactfully slip away and made his way toward the dressing rooms that had been provided for them; but he didn’t go into his own room.

****************************

When Adam returned to his dressing room nearly an hour later, he was tired and confused and more than a little cranky. He had no idea why Kris had been so cold with him after the show. Everything had been fine when they show had started. He and Kris had spent the ride over laughing and talking, and Kris had seemed totally normal.

_So what’s his deal? Why is he suddenly acting like he can’t stand the sight of me?_

He was barely through the door of his dressing room when suddenly the door closed behind him, and something thick and heavy wrapped around his eyes, enclosing him in darkness, as a strong hand closed on his shoulder and pulled him back a step or two. Before panic had time to set in, a familiar voice spoke, low and dangerous in his ear.

“Were you enjoying the view out there on stage?”

Adam went still at the cold edge to Kris’s voice, swallowing hard as he tried to make sense of what was happening. “What… I don’t…”

“The _guitarist_, Adam.”

Kris impatiently clarified, tugging slightly against the makeshift blindfold to draw his head back, and Adam recognized the feeling of the material as the rough underside of one of Kris’s leather belts.

“You wanted him, didn’t you?”

Adam couldn’t suppress his smirk at the jealousy he heard in Kris’s voice.

_So_ that’s _what this is about._

“Of course I did. You did _see_ him, right?” Adam let out a soft laugh with his defiant response.

Kris’s voice lowered even more, and Adam could feel his breath against his neck as he pressed softly, “How much did you want him, Adam?” Adam winced at the pressure on his neck as Kris pulled harder on the belt, his hand fisted around the leather behind Adam’s head. “Did you want him more than _me_?”

Adam knew that he could easily have broken Kris’s grip and tossed the belt aside with his concerns.

But… he also knew _Kris_. He trusted him, and knew he wouldn’t go so far as to actually hurt him. And he knew that if Kris had been pushed this far, to this point of physical aggression, well – maybe it was best to simply let him do what it was he felt he needed to do.

“No,” he answered in a hushed voice touched with sympathetic affection. “I couldn’t, Kris. You know that.”

“No, I don’t,” Kris countered in a clipped, terse tone that Adam rarely heard from him. “Why don’t you prove it to me?”

Adam allowed Kris to lead him across the room, guiding him with one hand on the belt and the other firmly grasping his arm. Adam flinched slightly at the clattering sound of dozens of cosmetic products being swept off the vanity table he had used to get ready for the show. Kris maneuvered Adam so that the backs of his legs were against the side of the table, then pulled him abruptly down onto his back across it.

Adam’s hands grasped at the sides of the table as he drew in a sharp, shaky breath, uneasy with feeling so out of control, so at the mercy of someone else – even if that someone was Kris. He heard Kris move around to his head, felt the belt around his eyes tugged downward, then heard the buckle fastening. It took him a moment to figure out that Kris had threaded it through a carrying handle on the side of the vanity and buckled it tight to keep it over Adam’s eyes and to hold his head in place.

Adam swallowed hard, feeling his stomach lurch at the feeling of being restrained, pinned down and unable to see what was going on around him – what was about to be done to him.

Even if he was fairly certain that he was probably going to like it.

Adam felt the pressure of Kris’s smaller body on his as the younger man leaned over him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and hissing into his ear, “Do I need to tie you up? Or can you be still?”

Adam drew in a shuddering breath, tingles trickling down his spine at the dangerous, authoritative sound in Kris’s voice. He shook his head finally, remembering to respond.

“No, I… I’ll be still…”

Kris was none-too-gentle as he unfastened Adam’s jeans and yanked them down around his ankles, allowing a rather impressive erection to spring free. Kris grasped it tightly in one hand, giving it a slight but vicious little twist that made Adam jerk against the table, biting back a yelp. He doubted this room was soundproof, and had no idea how many people might still be around outside.

“Is this for him, Adam?” Kris demanded softly, a cruel note to his voice. “Or for me?”

“For you,” Adam gasped out, his tone pleading and desperate. “Only for you.”

His hands grappled at the sides of the vanity as he wrestled with his own need to resist. He could hear the satisfied smirk in Kris’s voice as his grip eased and he began stroking slowly up and down the length of Adam’s cock, his touch somehow both possessive and affectionate.

“It’d better be.”

He began to slow his strokes even more, while deepening the pressure, so that Adam let out a low groan of wordless, pleading desperation.

“Whose face are you picturing, Adam?” Kris murmured. “Who do you want to see right now?”

“Y-you,” Adam stuttered, his breath hitching as his hips arched upward toward Kris’s touch. Frustratingly, Kris just moved with him, refusing to allow him the greater contact he craved. “Just… just you…”

“That’s right,” Kris murmured. “You’re mine, Adam… just mine… and other guys… even looking, like that, anyway… are off limits. Right?”

“Right,” Adam echoed mindlessly, unable to focus on what Kris was saying for the tremendous sensations created by what he was doing. “Right, right… whatever you want…”  


Kris drew out the torment a few minutes longer, increasing and decreasing the intensity of his touch until Adam was nearly frantic with need, begging in a hoarse, breathless whisper for the release he craved. His knuckles were white where they gripped the handle of one of the vanity drawers, desperate to prevent himself from breaking free.

“Kris, please, Kris, please…” he chanted over and over.

At the last moment, Kris stilled his hand completely, gripping tightly at the base of Adam’s aching, over-sensitized cock to prevent his release.

“Do you wish it was him touching you now?”

“No,” Adam insisted, shaking his head as much as he could, his tone intent and emphatic. “No, Kris… I want _you_…”

With a final motion of his hand, Kris brought Adam’s pleasure to its fulfillment. As Adam struggled to catch his breath, slowly coming down from the natural high, Kris silently moved about the table, wiping up the mess they had made, before moving around to Adam’s head again.

He leaned in close; Adam could smell his familiar, intoxicating scent, could feel the heat of his body less than an inch from Adam’s own. Kris’s voice was low, enticing, carrying a sense of meaning that told Adam his answer to the question would determine the course of what happened next – in this room, and out of it.

“Who is it that you want to see… when you open your eyes?”

“You,” Adam whispered with fervent sincerity after a moment’s pause. “I just wanna see you… please…”

Kris was silent for a long moment, before quietly unbuckling the belt from around Adam’s eyes. Adam sat up slowly, trembling, waiting for his eyes to come back into focus as Kris moved around to stand between his legs, one hand gently cupping his cheek. The first thing Adam saw clearly was Kris’s warm, satisfied smile, dark eyes gazing into his own with pleased approval.

Kris leaned in to give Adam a slow, tender kiss, before pulling back to meet his eyes again with a soft whisper.

“That’s all I needed to know.”


End file.
